


Empty Nest Syndrome

by sdwbf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:09:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdwbf/pseuds/sdwbf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The demon that killed Mary is dead, Sam's graduated from high school and headed off for Stanford and Dean's getting ill. A frantic John tries to figure out what is wrong with his son and everything changes. Inspired by <a href="http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/50345.html?thread=13235881#t13235881">this prompt</a> at SPNkink_meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empty Nest Syndrome

**Author's Note:**

> This is a not-quite-human AU in which betas of both sexes go into heat while alphas of both sexes do the fertilizing – so betas get the classic female names of wife and mother. But there's no wolfing or other creaturing out! I've also given Azazel a Crowleyesque love of the good life making him far easier to track down. The prompt specified Dean as 18, but I have the OP's permission to bump it up to 22.
> 
> Posted to Live Journal Oct. 10, 2011.

  
**Empty Nest Syndrome** by sdwbf

**Then**

Thirteen years after it started John Winchester's quest to avenge his wife's murder came to an end. There were several unexpected aspects to this triumph. First and foremost, John survived it. He'd honestly never expected to outlive the Yellow Eyed Demon who had burned Mary to death on the ceiling of their youngest son's nursery. So certain was he of his own death, his first thought when they'd all but blundered into him was 'oh, God, not yet.'

He'd been checking out the area – a simple reconnaissance run to follow up on some rumors. Hadn't thought a thing about bringing his two boys with him. Stupid. He'd been so careful not to risk getting killed until Dean was of age, but his son had five more months between the final battle and his eighteenth birthday. As he'd gone for the Colt and failed to reach it, all John could do was pray Bobby Singer would look after the boys. Assuming they survived.

Except he didn't die. Nor was he the one to kill Azazel. His beautiful seventeen-year-old son had done the job. Too delighted to capture both John and Sam Winchester the yellow-eyed bastard had been too busy gloating to notice Dean scrambling out of sight during the initial attack. Or maybe the demon numbered among those foolish enough to think of a beta as weak and no threat. In any case, Dean, as he always did, put that nonsense to rest by circling back around.

He got the Colt and started firing. Killed Azazel and the demons he'd indicated were his own son and daughter. Two alphas in the family and it was the pretty beta who did the killing. So much for stereotypes and the idiots who believed in them.

Like a good solider, Dean secured the empty weapon at the same time he rearmed himself with the less mystical Colt he favored, then moved to his father. "Dad, you okay?" he asked, his eyes tracking for any threats.

"Yeah," he coughed, because he was. Little worse for wear from a couple of minutes of torture, but he couldn't even begin to count the number of times he'd been worse. The force holding him in place gone, he sagged a little, but not wanting to alarm his boys, he shook it off like a Marine and got to his feet. Sammy ran over to them and not surprisingly latched onto Dean, not his dad.

John even had to approve because his youngest was careful not to obstruct Dean's vision or his firing arm. Then Sammy reached out and gripped John's arm, searching his father's face for any lie beyond the assurance given. John smiled at him, then got down to business. "We need to make sure the area's secure."

"We're not leaving?" Dean asked, because it made more sense to get the hell out of here. Except they couldn't.

"No, we have a ritual to do." Wasn't often he explained an order, but even the most unreasonable of commanding officers would have given Dean that one after what he'd pulled off. "Now make sure we're alone."

"Yes sir," the boys answered and split off in opposite directions.

Keeping his own eyes and ears open, John moved over to the dead demon who had destroyed their lives. "Dean got him for us, Mary," he whispered as he knelt down. "Sammy's safe." Or he would be in a few more minutes. He pulled a vial out of his inner pocket. He'd taken to carrying it almost as a talisman, but finally he needed it for something other than symbolic inspiration.

He mixed the blood trickling from the demon's body with the oils and herbs inside the plastic tube as he murmured a few lines of Sumarian. It began to glow and grew almost too hot to hold, but it cooled to a manageable temperature by the time the boys returned. "All clear, Dad," Dean reported.

Didn't doubt him for an instant. "Sammy, come here."

Although Mary's beauty had softened his features, Sam resembled him, right down to the stubborn streak, but for once he didn't argue. John figured they were all in shock. Knew he wanted to collapse and sleep for a week, but he still had work to do. It was the other reason he hadn't been ready to die today. He hadn't yet found the courage to tell Dean the truth about his brother's fate if they failed to get Azazel. Again, stupid. _Gotten too used to keeping secrets, old man._

This was the end of that. His voice calm and steady to help them not panic, he told them about Azazel bleeding into Sam's mouth the night Mary had been killed. Told them it had all been part of some bigger scheme involving Hell and God only knew what else. "This will get rid of the taint, Sammy," he said holding up the vial. "But it's going to feel like you're burning alive from the inside out."

Sammy paled, but didn't hesitate to take the vial, then down its contents. "Take him back to the car, Dean," John said. "Stay with him. I've got one more thing to do."

His eldest's face even paler than Sam's, Dean obeyed. A few minutes after they settled in the backseat together, Sam started screaming in agony. Would go on for at least an hour, and tears swam in John's eyes. Wished he could have spared Sammy the pain or at least taken it on himself, but it would have been worse if the kid had gotten any older, and once he'd reached adulthood it wouldn't have worked at all.

John had no way of knowing how many Azazel had poisoned like Sammy, but he knew there were others. Couldn't help them as directly or as safely – Sammy howled and the word 'safely' seemed a misnomer – but he could do something. He used a second vial and cast the spell again, this time directing the magic out into the world via the smoke of a funeral pyre for the dead demons. If it worked it would not only cure the blood taint in the victims, but shut the 'out' gate of Hell for at least a century. He watched the smoke rise into the night and listened to his son's screams. Other people's sons and daughters would soon begin the same painful journey, but the indirect magic made it riskier. He knew at least a few would die. The weight of that settled on his shoulders, but he couldn't leave those children infected and ripe to serve as pawns for the next demon's plans.

John shook his head and walked to the car. He crawled into the backseat and took both boys into his arms, holding them tight until long after Sammy passed out.

*

The next morning they all crawled out of the Impala and John called Ellen Harvelle. Azazel had been living the high life for centuries, and she put Ash on the job of tracking down the liquid assets. Nothing they could do about the estate and less movable property. IRS would end up seizing it, no doubt, but John would be damned himself before he let all that money end up funding some useless government nonsense.

There weren't any human heirs of course. The host Azazel had taken had lived for centuries thanks the demon, and he'd made a point of killing anyone remotely connected to the human. Typical for a powerful demon. They loved pretending to be their own heirs, and a hunter lucky enough to be in the right time and place could reap the benefits conscience free.

In this case the amount of wealth was staggering and far too much for John to claim for his own. Instead he decided it was time to give his boys a home and took just enough to buy a place, plus enough money to cover any foreseeable expenses during the four years Sam would be in high school. It was a lot, but not a fortune. The rest was put in a fund to take care of injured hunters or provide for them if they got too injured to take care of themselves.

That done, John turned his back on the life of a full-time hunter and looked for a place to call home. He decided on Longmont, Colorado. 

**Now**

They caravanned to Stanford. John in his truck pulling a U-Haul trailer full of Sam's things, and the boys in the vintage Mustang Dean had restored for his brother's sixteenth birthday. Seemed like just yesterday, but Sam had gone and turned 18, graduated with honors and pulled a full ride to Stanford University.

John wanted to burst with pride every time he thought that, but it also saddened him. California was a long way from Colorado, and he knew it was killing Dean. Much as he loved how his oldest looked after them, John settled his family with as much hope Dean would get more of a non-Winchester focus on life than for Sam's schooling. But the boy had too big a heart and it was all focused on John and Sam.

Dean had graduated from Longmont High School, then had gone to community college to get his auto mechanics certification while helping out his old man at Winchester Salvage. When he wasn't driving Sam around. School plays, soccer practices/games, debate and scholastic competitions. Even after he'd given Sam the car, Dean had never missed an event or had let John get away with skipping one the business or a hunt didn't demand he miss.

They still did hunt. But with demons out of the picture, things were calmer on that front and John had settled into the 'Bobby Singer' style of hunting. A permanent home base, a salvage yard that brought in enough money to pay the bills and providing research support for other hunters. They went out themselves often enough getting stale wasn't a problem, but no more than that.

There had been a few changes on the personal front as well. With a real home and his blood free of Azazel's taint, Sam's rebellious streak cooled to more typical alpha-teen levels, so he and John didn't clash nearly as often. And John? He'd stopped drinking too much. Still enjoyed an after-work beer or a good shot of whisky on occasion, but the day's of drinking himself into a numb stupor had died with Azazel. Kept the edge off his own temper. Let him get back in touch with the loving father he'd been before he'd lost Mary. Of course he'd always loved his sons. But he'd had trouble expressing it. Especially with words.

Now, no longer obsessed with revenge and worried to the point of near-mental illness over Azazel's plans for Sam, he recovered his easy smile. He also learned to use words like 'proud of you' and 'love you.' Sam still always turned to Dean first, but that was okay. Dean was the one who had been there for him all his life while John had only been a stable presence for the last four years. But John couldn't complain about his relationship with Sam these days. Also liked how that settling down took a lot of the burden out of Dean's life. Would die a happy man if he never saw again the look of pain and despair in Dean's eyes as he'd been forced to break up one shouting match after another between his father and brother.

Both John and Sam had done what they could to make up for all those years of pain they'd caused their beta, and began treating him right. They both cherished Dean, lavished him with attention even when he insisted on making it all about them. Poor boy had gone from 'no chick flicks' to resigning himself to having one of their arms around his shoulder or hand at the small of his back every time he turned around. Closest thing John and Sam had come to fights in the last year were arguments over whose turn it was to 'cuddle' Dean. These 'wars' for his affections were always met with rolls of the eyes, orders to 'shut up' and blushes, but they also always made him smile encouraging neither of them to stop.

But it was time for Sam to move on to his own life. Strange how John had always known it would come down to this. Sam would go and Dean would stay. A truth that had remained steady either side of Azazel's existence. Although this side of it, John could be proud of him and clasp his overgrown son in a manly-alpha hug as they said goodbye. He didn't like thinking about how he might have handled this moment if things hadn't changed.

"Bye, son," he said, his eyes blurry with tears and his smile so big it almost split his lip.

"Bye, Dad," Sam said, squeezing him so tight it made his ribs twinge. There would be school vacations, of course. And Sam's current plans included law school and coming back to Colorado to work, but everything had changed with this moment. "Take good care of Dean."

"I will." They were both worried about him. Sam was the center of Dean's universe and now he was leaving. John had found him in tears more than once since Sam's letter of acceptance had arrived even though the boy was the biggest supporter of Sam following his dreams.

Their own goodbyes said, Sam turned to Dean and caught him up in his arms. Tears were flowing down Dean's cheeks and he clung to Sam while words John couldn't hear were whispered in his ear. "So proud of you, Sammy," Dean said and visibly trembled as he released his hold on his brother. 

Sam pressed a kiss to Dean's forehead. "Bye, Mom," he said softly. 

Dean gave him a punch in the arm, then one last quick hug. "Bye, Sammy." He didn't run to John's arms, but he got there pretty quick. He gave Dean a squeeze and guided him to the truck.

John nodded a final goodbye to his youngest, then started the drive back to Colorado with his oldest curled up against him. No life was never going to be the same, and something inside John began to worry they were all making a mistake.

*

A month into Sam's first semester things hadn't improved. Dean was listless, quick to tears and almost frantic with the need to find things to do in a life suddenly free of Sam-oriented events. He no longer needed to be teased into sitting next to John on the sofa while they watched television. Even in public he stayed close to John like he needed the closeness to anchor himself against the vast emptiness on his other side.

John was worried about him, and Sam was getting pissed. At John. "Damnit, Dad, you have to do something!" he raged at him via cell. "He looks sick!"

He'd actually expected the call. They video conferenced -- Skyped? -- every Tuesday and Sunday night, and this was the Wednesday after not even seeing and talking to Sam had made Dean brighten. "I know!" he shot back. "But I don't know what else to do!" He'd tried everything, had even suggested Dean go out with friends or something. That had set off the waterworks big time because Dean was apparently terrified John would get tired of him and tell him to hit the road. The idea was so idiotic John hadn't been able to do more than sputter in outrage. Not his best moment. He'd even considered turning Dean over his knee, but it felt too much like kicking a puppy.

Sam bit his lip. "Maybe I should come back."

"Visit might help," John agreed.

"No, I meant transfer to U of C." College in Boulder. Less than an hour's drive away. A lot more visits and it was a good school. But Sam had made too big a deal over the years about how much he wanted to go a prestigious school like Stanford. "No, Sam. Thought's good, but it would kill him to know you gave up your dreams for him."

"How the hell am I supposed to choose that over my mother?" Sam did that when he got excited or upset – referred to Dean as his mother instead of his brother. It used to amuse or sadden John depending on his mood, but he'd always had to admit it was a far more accurate description of the boys' relationship than a sibling title. "I can get a new dream!"

He sighed. "It's not what Dean wants for you. Look, I've made an appointment for him with Dr. Lee. Let's see what she has to say before you make any decisions."

"All right, but, Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"I want full disclosure. No secrets."

"Got my word, kid. What I know, you'll know."

*

Turned out they didn't need the doc for answers. Instead the next day Missouri Mosley dropped by for a visit. She'd helped him out in the early years and had gotten fond of the boys, so she tended to pop up whenever she was passing through the area. She was a gifted enough psychic to have clients throughout the west so that was more often than one might think.

Normally John liked to see her, and even had time to think 'thank God, she might be able to help' before the shit hit the fan. She gave him a hug hello, frowned, no doubt picking up on his worry for Dean, then the young man in question walked into the garage area.

She took one look at him and belted John hard across the back of the head. "John Winchester, have you lost your fool mind?"

Alarm spread across Dean's face. "Missouri, don't-"

Not a smart move. She whirled on Dean and, her face resembling a gale-force storm, she pointed at the nearest chair. "You sit!" Not being stupid, Dean obeyed immediately. "I'll deal with you in a minute."

John wasn't too proud to admit he took a step back when her attention returned to him. "Now, how about you explain to me why that boy is not only in heat, but trying to hide it?"

Heat? A lot of things came together. The frantic energy, the illness around the edges caused by God only knew what to suppress the pheromones, the depression at not giving in to what his body was screaming at him it needed. And all of it targeted at one person – him. And why would it be otherwise? Dean hadn't ever associated much with others, no chance he could have bonded with someone else. That meant it was his father's obligation to impregnate him, but he'd managed to block the scents that would not only clue John in, but allow him to feel a sexual interest in his son. He scowled. "I should have gone with the spanking."

Dean paled. "Dad, I-"

"Shut it, boy!" he snapped like he hadn't in years. He asked Missouri, "Think you can undo the damage?"

"Depends on what he used." She looked at Dean. "Where have you got it hid?" He glared, but she upped the wattage of her own. "Don't push me, boy. I'm sure you've got a wooden spoon or two in your kitchen."

A beta-matron in a rage was no one to take lightly, and Dean knew it, "Sock drawer."

"I'll see what I can do about sorting out the body. I'll leave you to deal with the rest."

He watched her go, then looked into tear-filled green eyes. "Any reason why my next move shouldn't be to yank your jeans down and blister your backside?" He'd gone into full alpha mode and, as instinct demanded, Dean dropped his gaze.

Dean said something so softly John couldn't hear it. "What?"

"I didn't want to be a burden."

"Burden? You raised my son, looked after me when I should have been doing both myself, and you think doing my duty would be a burden?" Damnit, this is what happened when a beta played alpha too long. Never should have let Dean get away with denying who he was, but he'd been too obsessed, too selfish not to see the danger of letting Dean model his behavior after John's. Wouldn't have made him any less of a fighter or a man to be who he was. All John's fault. Never let himself acknowledge the screams for help behind every 'no chick-flick moments' comment or how easily the green eyes teared up. Hell, he'd even thought it was a good thing when Dean was too wrapped up in looking after Sam to go into a brief 'everything works' heat when he hit eighteen. Hell, they'd all expected it. An eldest child going beta was rare, a fertile one was even rarer. But everything about Dean had always been amazing and rare.

He sighed. No doubt Dean _had_ gone through his initial heat, but had hidden it as thoroughly as he had this one. Nothing beyond that first heat should have been involuntary, but the child of Dean's heart and mind was gone, leaving Dean's body desperate for a baby. So once again he'd defied the odds and had gone into a non-compelled fertility cycle.

A sob tore at Dean's throat. "I don't want to be a duty! I … please." His poor broken son. So much time spent putting himself last he thought that's where he deserved to stay. Nearly shattered John's heart.

He knelt beside Dean's chair. "You've been my wife and Sam's mother since you were four years old, sweetheart." He cupped Dean's face in his hands. "I'd be happy spending the rest of my life making love to you." Even without the scent of pheromones to alter the nature of their relationship, it was no hardship to kiss Dean's lips, to reassure him the truth of his words with a touch. Of course his groin didn't stir. Until they could fix what Dean had done to his body and John could catch his scent, Dean would remain his beloved son, not his wife and mate. It was a protection for both of them, and trying to circumvent that process was unthinkable.

Dean clung to him, his body shaking. "What if I screwed everything up?" he whispered. He heard the unasked question -- what if John never wanted him the way Dean needed him to?

"We'll figure it out," he promised. Hadn't a clue how he could keep it, but he'd find a way.

*

Fortunately, the damage wasn't permanent. Apparently through shear dumb luck, Dean had stumbled on the safest way to suppress heat. John found it strange something to do so even existed given how rare non-willed heat was. But apparently one could find anything on the Internet.

Missouri made Dean drink a vial mixture of herbs that had him losing things from both ends for a couple of days. A fever followed – high enough to make him sweat the poison out of his system without risking a cooked brain.

John stayed with him. Perhaps doing a father's, instead of a husband's, duty for the last time, he rubbing Dean's back while he vomited, wiped his forehead while he tossed and turned with the fever, and made certain he stayed hydrated. John only took a few minutes here and there to eat and to Skype with Sam.

"Mom's in heat?" he squeaked when John broke the news. He had that disgusted-outraged face most kids got when faced with the idea their parents had sex.

John couldn't quite suppress his amusement which only upped the disgusted quota. "If he weren't such a sneaky shit," he almost winced given what else Dean had been doing the last few days, "it would have been obvious. Classic empty nest syndrome."

Sam's disgust twisted into the familiar one he wore when someone figured out something he'd missed. "Yeah." He sighed. "Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"You gonna marry him?"

"Soon as he's back on his feet. You want to come to the wedding? I can get you a plane ticket."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, sure, wouldn't want to miss it, but …"

"But what?"

"I know it's kind of hurt you at times, but is it okay if I call him 'mom' all the time now instead of when I'm pretending to tease him?"

"That's what he's always been to you, isn't it?"

Sam nodded.

"Then that's what you should call him."

Of course, Sam asked for and got Dean's permission when he showed up the following Friday for the wedding. Dean's heat was resetting, so he could enjoy his Sammy's company without driving his mate/father to distraction, and it was a pretty good weekend. Been so worried about Dean he'd not had time to focus on how much he missed Sam himself.

Sam stood up with them while they said vows that acknowledged what they had been and what they would now become to one another. When he slipped the ring on Dean's finger, he officially became John not Dad to the boy. But that night when they settled into bed together, Dean snuggled up against him and whispered, "Still gonna call you 'daddy' when we're in bed."

John laughed, and rolled so he was on top of him. "Naughty betas get spanked, you know."

"All talk, no follow through," Dean pouted. Made his lips look even more kissable than normal, so John obliged him. The slow simmering beginnings of Dean's heat had a similar affect on him, and they spent their wedding night exchanging lazy kisses and soft words before curling up to sleep in each other's arms.

*

Dean's scent stayed a subtle tease until the day after Sam returned to California. They were working in the garage, John stripping down a totaled SUV while Dean was bent over the engine of an old Ford pickup. It was the 'bent over' part that caught John's attention.

John was across the garage and rubbing his cock against Dean's ass in moments. "Da- John?" Dean groaned, pushing back against him.

The sound made any thoughts of ordering him to the bedroom vanish in a haze of aptly named heat. Instead, he ripped his clothes off of him at the same time he shifted him to bend over a closed hood.

Dean's hole glistened with slick inspiring John to yank open his zipper and impale the gorgeous ass. A rough, almost brutal rabbiting of his hips pushed him deeper into the tight, wet heat of the virgin ass.

The small remnants of the father in him screamed to slow down, that he was hurting his boy, but the mate pushed the nonsense back, spurred on by Dean's needy whimpers and the backward shove of his hips to deepen John's every thrust.

A desperate sob tore from Dean's throat as John's knot pushed against his hole. "God, shove it in me," he begged. "Daddy, tie me, need it so bad. Please, Daddy, please."

With a roar, he shoved hard, his knot breeching the entrance. Dean screamed, his body shuddering in the first of several orgasms, his hole eagerly grasping John's knot. Made him swell up, sealing them together as he pumped his seed deep into his wife's womb. Took twenty minutes to shoot his whole load, then soften enough to pull out.

Between the pheromones and Dean's broken whimper when they separated, John hardened again by the time he turned his mate onto his back. Immediately, he shoved back inside all that slick, welcoming heat, while using his tongue to fuck Dean's mouth with the same savage enthusiasm.

His mate's arms and legs wrapped around him. "Harder, Daddy," he begged each time John freed his mouth enough to speak. "Damn you, harder." John didn't even soften enough between the second and third couplings to pull out.

Was the middle of the night before they finally exhausted themselves. Some time during their mating frenzy, John had managed to carry Dean into the house and get himself stripped off, so he flopped back onto the comfort of his mattress instead of the hard floor of the garage. He took a moment to feel grateful for that, even found the strength to pull Dean into his arms, then they slept.

For the next two days they either slept or fucked. On the third the need for food cooled the fires and restored some sanity. "Did I hurt you, sweetheart?" he asked, settling Dean in his lap as they tucked into bowls of instant oatmeal just to take the edge off the raw hunger.

Dean blushed prettily and if John's body hadn't needed food more than anything else at the moment, he'd have taken him over the kitchen table. "Felt good," he murmured into John's neck.

Been a stupid question. A mating frenzy always hurt. Was even supposed to as the hormones it released increased the odds of conception and sated their respective needs to claim and be claimed. His hand shifted to settle over the flatness of Dean's belly. "Think you caught?"

"Dunno, you should probably fuck me a few more times to make sure."

John laughed. "Eggs, bacon, etc. first, then you'll get my knot again."

"Okay," Dean agreed hopping up and setting his empty bowl aside. "Cook or change the sheets?"

"Your eggs are better than mine, so sheets it is," he answered, heading off to the bedroom. Their bed was a ruin that made him smirk as he fixed it, then took a quick shower. He returned to the kitchen and shooed Dean off for his own wash up while John made toast and bacon.

Between the food, getting clean and restoring their bed to a more civilized state, John kept more of himself in the mix when he settled Dean underneath him. This time the kisses and touches caressed and soothed instead of bruised, while the strokes sealing him inside Dean's womb had a languid, almost gentle rhythm. Difference between pure mating and making love. Silly thought given the likelihood that Dean's eager womb had caught his seed during their first coupling, but as he spilled into his wife's body, John found himself believing this was when they made their baby.

*

Took them a week to stop shedding clothes at every opportunity, then a trip to Doctor Lee's office confirmed Dean was pregnant. They waited the customary three weeks before telling Sam, John's hand resting on the soft swell of Dean's belly. Well, they didn't so much as tell Sam as he told them. As soon as they signed on, their son took one look at Dean's happy, glowing face and burst out, "Am I getting a sister or brother?"

Dean laughed. "Sister. We're thinking Mary Amanda. Call her Maddy."

"I like it, although you need to tell Dad to stop looking so smug." He gave John a scowl. "All sons like to think their moms are virgins."

John's turn to laugh. "Sorry, son, but your mother is far too beautiful for that."

Sam made a disgusted face, then gave Dean a fond look. "I guess he kind of is." He frowned. "Fuck, I need to start practicing my menacing big brother act. My little sis is sure to be a looker."

John groaned at the thought, but yeah, she would be.

*

Mary Campbell had been the love of John's life, but he hadn't known what love truly was until he'd held his first born in his arms. From that first moment Dean had utterly captivated his heart. Two decades later his boy's scent had give this great love a sexual edge. When he thought about how much he loved Dean the depth of it utterly terrified John. Made him dote on his son-turned-wife to an almost sickening degree. Although Sam understood.

Life had turned them from a father and two sons to parents with a son and a daughter due within weeks. Should have felt strange, but a rightness settled over their family that hadn't existed since Mary was alive. Left him with no regrets their constant moving had prevented Dean from bonding with a peer so his body had set its sites on John. Although there was one thing he wondered. "Do you regret it wasn't you?" he asked Sam while Dean took a nap.

Sam was home for spring break, and they all hoped Maddy would make her appearance before he had to go back to Stanford. "Sometimes," he admitted. "In a theoretical way." He gave his father a rueful smile. "I miss having him with me every day, but he was always my mom. Mostly I'd think it was weird if his scent had changed me."

John nodded, but, "I'm more than twenty years older than him, Sammy."

He didn't have to say the rest. Sam's hand closed on his wrist in a reassuring grip. "I'll look after him," he promised, then smiled. "Everyone always says I'm the center of Dean's universe, but they forget he's always been the center of mine, too. So don't worry."

More than reassured, he patted Sam's hand. "I won't. Now how about a beer and some baseball?"

Sam laughed, but he channel surfed until he found a Cubs game while John fetched the beer. Was the bottom of the fifth when Dean walked in. "Guys," he said, his voice full of fear and wonder, "I'm having a baby." When neither of them reacted, he added, "Now."

It wasn't like the movies. No one panicked or ran around like a fool, but they quickly got Dean to the hospital. Sam stayed with them in the birthing room, soothing Dean despite his upset at seeing his mother gasping in pain. John had never liked that part either, but at least a male beta's pregnancy lasted a shorter time and delivering the smaller baby didn't strain Dean half as much as pushing out Sam had Mary.

Two hours after Dean had walked into the living room to find his men living the alpha stereotype, their daughter officially joined the family. Had a set of lungs on her, too. John could tell just by looking at her she was going to look more like her grandmother than even Dean did. Almost like Mary was getting a second chance at life. He hoped so, he thought as he took her into his arms. And for the fourth time in his life, John Winchester fell irrevocably in love.

*

Sam had never developed Dean's ability to hide his emotions, and his distress as he packed to go to the airport was obvious. To John. Kid actually had done a decent job of holding it together around his mom. "Sammy? You want to tell me what's wrong?"

Hard to think what it might be. Dean was fine. Maddy was perfect. No reason at all for anyone to be doing anything but popping champagne corks.

For a moment he thought Sam was going to deny anything was bothering him, but he finally said, "I don't think I can do it, Dad."

"Do what?"

"Leave them. Was hard enough leaving Mom, but I can't miss more than six years of Maddy's life." His eyes had a brightness that said tears were a real possibility.

John felt at a loss. Even if Sam transferred to U of C, he'd still be more visitor than brother to Maddy. John had to admit the idea made his stomach churn, but so did the idea of his brilliant son giving up on college.

"Then don't." They turned to where Dean stood in the doorway. Stunned John to hear Dean encourage Sam to give up his future, and he could tell their son was having similar thoughts.

Dean walked over to them and rested his hand against the side of Sam's face. He was the absolute picture of a strong, wise beta. Sam's mother. John's wife. The center of their family, finally coming into his own. "All you need to do is ask, Sammy." He smiled. "Dreams don't have to die, but sometimes they need the details adjusted."

Sam blushed, obviously knowing what Dean was talking about. "Come with me," he whispered. "Mom, Dad, come with me to California. Please."

His beautiful Dean looked at him. They had the money. The place had made enough of a profit that they'd never needed to touch the security fund Ash had created for them. And he could think of more than one person who would buy this place outright. "Beta makes the family decisions," he answered with a smile. Another stereotype, but Dean lacked his husband's track record for making mistakes in this area, so he'd more than earned the right.

"We're moving to California."

Sam whooped, caught his mother in his arms and spun him around it a circle as Dean's laughter filled the room.

**Epilogue**

John lay in their bed staring up at the ceiling as the morning sun began to creep into the darkness. Dean slept curled up against him, his head resting on John's shoulder. Lived in this house exactly four years today. The place was big, with an entire apartment upstairs for Sam, although, like the old house in Colorado, the garage they worked in was out back. Best commute in the world.

Apparently California was where classic cars came to die, so their restoration/salvage business was wildly successful. They'd even had to hire a few employees to keep up with demand and still have time to help out other hunters. Was rare when they actually took a hunt these days, but they ran a research and 'why, yes, such-in-such was a special agent' hub.

Sam would graduate from Stanford in May. Had already been accepted into Stanford Law, although he hadn't gotten a full ride this time around. Parents were way too successful for that, but he'd received some merit scholarship funds to take the sting out of the tuition. Also landed himself a fiancée. Jessica Moore. She'd moved in last fall, and started a mutual admiration club with Maddy. Lady was a real catch and more than down with the plan of staying under the same roof as Sam's parents. They'd be doing some remodeling – making Sam's place bigger to accommodate future Winchesters as a wedding gift – but little else would change. Not the worst life John could image.

"Mmmm, 'ohn?" Dean stirred.

"Morning, sweetheart," he said giving him a kiss.

Dean tugged at him so John shifted on top of him. Boy was a big fan of getting fucked awake, and he sighed happily, when John pushed his morning wood into his wife's hole. As always, he came the first time when the knot breached him, and his eyes grew more alert. "Love the way you feel inside me, Daddy," he whispered.

"Love being inside you," he answered, because, God, he did. Cradling Dean in his arms, he rolled so he was flat on his back, Dean's legs sprawling on either side of his body. "But I'm an old man. You do the work."

Dean gripped his shoulders, his hips rising and falling in a gentle pistioning motion. A Saturday morning indulgence designed to keep them both on edge for a deliciously long ride. By the time Dean's body shuddered through a final orgasm and John's knot fell free, the sunlight seemed to almost envelop him. "Gorgeous," he murmured drawing Dean back down to rest against him.

"Mmm, not so bad yourself." Dean was quiet for a moment, then said, "Four is a good number."

"Huh?"

"Of years. Between babies."

Ah. He smiled. "It is."

"I was thinking maybe I could go into heat again while Sam and Jess are off on their honeymoon."

Two months from now, plenty of time for Dean to coax his body into a fertile state. John smiled thinking of a similar conversation he'd had with Mary years ago while Dean had slept blissfully unaware of what parents could get up to in the dark. "Maddy could stay with Bobby and Ellen for a few days." They'd ended up married and would be coming out for the wedding. Wouldn't be difficult to get them to stay over for a few more days. John would even pay for their hotel suite because no one wanted to be anywhere near a mating frenzy beyond the two involved.

"So you're okay with having another baby?"

"Yes." And purely to make certain Dean knew he was telling the truth, John managed another erection and put it to work. No, not the worst life he could imagine. Not at all.

end


End file.
